Apologies and Other Necessary Evils
by ilovetvalot
Summary: Written in response to the TV Prompt Challenge - The New Adventures of Old Christine: "How I Hate Your Mother". When Rossi makes a careless comment, will he survive the fallout? Rossi/Prentiss
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note: Thanks so much to Kavi Leighanna and Sienna27 for their Television Prompt Challenge.**_

_**And please, check out our writing challenge on our forum on **__**"Chit Chat on Author's Corner"**__** (you can find the link on my profile page.) In order to expand our horizons and stretch our writing wings, everyone who joins the challenge will be writing an exciting new pairing. By signing up, you'll get to suggest a pairing for someone else to write in addition to agreeing to write yourself. The story can be a drabble or an epic, romantic or friendship, AU or canon, angst or comedy…or anything in between. As the author, it is your choice to determine the direction and plot…we'll just be providing the pairing. Thanks to everyone who has signed up so far….and it's not too late for YOU, too! Feel free to email, PM or post to the forum thread if you'd be interested in participating.**_

**Apologies and Other Necessary Evils**

**Chapter One**

_**Prompt: The New Adventures of Old Christine – "How I Hate Your Mother"**_

Staring out the window of his office into the hazy, humid August day, David Rossi contemplated his current predicament. Fifty four years on the planet had taught him an important lesson or two along the way. First and foremost was that when you didn't have a fucking clue what to do in any given situation, go with your gut. It rarely fails you.

And right now, his gut was telling him to find her. Find her fast. Before irreparable damage was done to an already floundering relationship.

He wanted to find her. God, how he wanted to. But chasing after her now would make their relationship blatantly obvious. Hell, that was if the raised voices that had echoed down the outside corridor a few short minutes ago hadn't already done so.

He never had been quite adept at expressing his anger in a productive way. He was more a yell-his-way-through-the-pain kind of guy. But while he was certain he could outshout Emily Prentiss in a battle of wills, he wasn't nearly as confident that he could outlast her.

The woman defined tenacity. And that just might be his downfall.

Damn it! This was crap. He was going to be forced into apologizing for something he had actually meant with all of his slightly charred heart. Who knew that six little words could get a guy in so much trouble?

"Oh, how I hate your mother."

Damn it, he hadn't even made a big production of the statement. It was simply a fact. That he'd foolishly verbalized. To Emily. The she-devil's one and only daughter.

It didn't matter that said daughter didn't have any more use for the uptight diplomat than he did. It didn't matter that he had heard the very same words come from her mouth just a week prior. Evidently, he'd broken some unwritten rule. What was it she'd said before storming out the door? Something about the only person allowed to give her mother hell in her presence was her. Apparently, he didn't rate such consideration.

Sounded like a fucking double standard to him. And didn't she hate those?

Sighing heavily as he finally pushed away from the window, he knew he needed to find her before the anger cemented into bitterness. Been there, fought that battle many, many times before. Glancing at the clock, he realized with a sinking heart that she'd probably simply left for the day. With only fifteen minutes left to the workday, he honestly couldn't see Emily willingly returning to her desk and seething in front of an audience.

And peeking out his window, his suspicion was confirmed. No Prentiss.

Which meant, much to his dismay, he'd be groveling on her turf. Great, he thought sullenly, he wasn't even to have the home field advantage this evening. On the off chance that he could manage to dig himself out of the grave he'd accidentally fallen into, he was going to be forced to spend the night in a frilly bedroom with a bed two sizes too small for him. Christ, that was punishment enough, wasn't it? Didn't that earn him a free pass on all of the emotional crap that was bound to occur?

Tightening his lips as his hand reached out to flip off his desk lamp, he knew his procrastination wouldn't help the current situation. Emily's ire normally didn't decrease with time. Grabbing his keys and jacket, he was out the door seconds later, raising a hand in farewell to those unfortunate souls left toiling in the bullpen.

Meeting JJ at the elevator, her briefcase in hand, Dave smiled tightly at the friendly blonde, impatiently tapping his foot as they both waited for the elevator.

"In a hurry, Rossi?" JJ asked knowingly, arching one well-defined eyebrow at him as she shifted her bag to her other hand.

"Just don't wanna get caught in a rush hour snarl," Dave replied smoothly, the lie rolling off his tongue easily even as he snuck another glance at his watch.

"Uh huh," JJ smirked, stepping into the elevator as the steel doors parted. "Sell it somebody that's willing to buy the party line," she chuckled, pressing the down arrow as he followed her inside the car.

Sighing heavily, he mentally kicked himself for missing such an obvious sign. He should have known Jareau would have already figured them out by now. In addition to being one of Emily's best friends, the woman was nobody's fool, her flawless skill well proven time and again. "So how long have YOU known for?" he asked sardonically, slowly banging his briefcase against his thigh.

"Before either of you did," JJ smiled, her eyes never moving from the numbers above the door.

"Anybody else figure it out?" Dave asked dryly, his voice low in the confined space even though they remained alone. Hell, with his luck, this conversation was being recorded to be used against him at a future time and date. For all he knew, Emily had the security guards tucked firmly in her corner just for instances such as this.

"Maybe Hotch," JJ shrugged, the strap from her bag shifting against her jacket, "but, you'd know that better than I would. You're safe on the rest of the team. At least so far. Too many more arguments like today though and you guys won't need to make a public announcement," JJ warned as she glanced over at his darkening face.

"How many heard?" Dave groaned, inwardly cringing at the prospect of having Emily mad at him for multiple offenses. The one he'd already been found guilty of was more than enough.

"Half the floor, but I played it off for you two. If anybody asks, I brought you a sensitive case that you both vehemently disagreed on," JJ said flatly, mentally chalking another mark in the favor file that she kept on all of her colleagues.

"Thanks, JJ," Dave replied gratefully. Leave it to JJ to cover their collective ass. Nothing new for her; she'd been doing it for as long as he could remember. He refused to dwell on the fact that he might very well owe her half his fortune if she ever chose to collect on all of those good deeds.

"You do realize that people like you are why people like me need medication, don't you?" JJ asked with a wink, the joke filled with more truth than either of them wanted to admit.

"Send me the pharmacist's bill," Dave returned with a lopsided grin as the elevator dinged again and the doors slid open with a whine.

"Will do," JJ nodded, stepping out into the parking garage. "Good luck," she called over her shoulder as she jogged toward her own car, halfway considering placing an informative well-timed call to a certain brunette.

And he might have imagined it, but he could have sworn she muttered "You'll need it" as she slipped out of sight.

Sweet mother of God, what had he gotten himself into this time?


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note: Thanks so much to Kavi Leighanna and Sienna27 for their Television Prompt Challenge.**_

_**And please, check out our writing challenge on our forum on **__**"Chit Chat on Author's Corner"**__** (you can find the link on my profile page.) In order to expand our horizons and stretch our writing wings, everyone who joins the challenge will be writing an exciting new pairing. By signing up, you'll get to suggest a pairing for someone else to write in addition to agreeing to write yourself. The story can be a drabble or an epic, romantic or friendship, AU or canon, angst or comedy…or anything in between. As the author, it is your choice to determine the direction and plot…we'll just be providing the pairing. Thanks to everyone who has signed up so far….and it's not too late for YOU, too! Feel free to email, PM or post to the forum thread if you'd be interested in participating.**_

**_And please, check out our newest interview over on "Chit Chat". We're talking to the lovely and talented CMali today._**

**Apologies and Other Necessary Evils**

**Chapter Two**

_**Prompt: Three's Company: A Crowded Romance**_

Groaning to himself as he stood outside Emily Prentiss' small brownstone, Dave frowned at the closed door as his shoulder leaned against her buzzer and his fist fell against the heavy wood of the door. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, this woman defined the word stubborn!

"I'm not going away, Prentiss!" he yelled through the sealed portal separating him from the woman he loved, well aware that in all likelihood she probably stood just on the other side, glaring at him with the X-ray vision he was certain she possessed. "Open the door, cara!"

"Go! Away!" her muffled shout filtered through the door, the anger painfully evident in her tone.

Progress. She was at least speaking now. And after fifteen minutes of alternately banging and cursing at her door, he was grateful for small favors.

"Let me in, Emily," he demanded calmly, keeping his voice even and controlled as he stared daggers at the stubborn door.

"Go away peacefully, Rossi, or I'm calling the cops," Emily threatened, those words much clearer than before, their meaning unmistakable.

Smiling faintly, but wiping it quickly from his face when he realized that Emily might very well be watching him through her peephole, he could imagine her tiny fists clenched, not quite ineffectually, at her side. While seemingly fragile, that woman could pack a hell of a punch when provoked. "We are the cops, Em," Dave reminded her patiently, wincing suddenly as he realized that had sounded more goading than anything else.

"Good," her muted voice wafted through the wooden barrier between them, "Nobody will mind very much when I shoot you then."

"Is that any way to talk to the guy you profess to love?" Dave asked, biting his bottom lip to keep from chuckling at her belligerent tone. Leaning his shoulder against the doorframe again, he glanced down at the knob, mentally gauging his abilities to still pick a lock.

"Don't you dare laugh!" Emily ordered stridently, those words coming through loud and clear.

"How do you know I wanted to laugh?" Dave asked impatiently, rolling his eyes at the ridiculousness of the current situation, well imagining her pressed against the other side of the door.

"I could hear it in your voice. You aren't the only profiler here, you ass," Emily snapped suddenly, her less-than-sterling description of him coming through loud and clear.

"Emily," Dave begged, sliding his right hand against the door in supplication, "Let me in the house."

"No."

"Don't you think we should at least attempt to be adults here?" Dave hissed against the doorjamb, glaring over his shoulder as a couple walked past with their dog, eyeing him suspiciously.

"What a novel concept," Emily said, her sarcastic words growing louder with each passing second. "Is maligning my mother your way of being an adult?"

"You maligned her first," Dave pointed out on a yelp, wiping at the sweat running down his brow with a frustrated hand. "If memory serves correctly, you've called her an uptight pompous bitch with a stick shoved so far up her ass that..."

"I'm allowed," Emily hissed, jerking open the oak door quickly, her eyes flashing dangerously as her hand gripped his forearm painfully and hauled him inside the dim entryway. "I'm her daughter!"

"If you feel that way though, why is it so unreasonable to believe that somebody else, especially the somebody else that's in love with you, would agree with your assessment?" Dave asked, stumbling across the threshold as she slammed the door behind them.

"You can agree," Emily shrugged as she jerked the deadbolt into place with a violent scraping of metal. "You just can't badmouth my mother. You will not badmouth my mother. I will be the only person in this relationship with the right to badmouth my mother or there will be no relationship. Get that, Dave?" Emily replied, each word clipped and precise as she jabbed a pointed finger into his solid chest.

"Wait a second," Dave frowned, holding up a hand as he dug his heels into the hardwoods covering her small hallway. "Let me see if I can get this straight. I'm expected to sit around and watch that woman harass and harangue you about everything from your job to your hair, listen to her backhanded insults about my ability to maintain a relationship longer than breakfast, watch your metamorphosis from competent, collected, controlled FBI agent to a flustered, floundering tangle of nerves every time she gets in a five mile radius...and I'M not allowed to badmouth her?"

"Essentially," Emily nodded, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared up at the man that alternately infuriated and amazed her. "She's my mother, Dave. How would you feel if I said I hated your mother?"

"I'd say it was a neat trick since she's been dead for over twenty years," Dave rapped out, dropping his hands to his hips as he cocked his head at her.

"You know what I mean, Rossi," Emily snapped impatiently, her lips tightening as she barely resisted the urge to shake his shoulders until she was able to rattle some sense into him.

"Unfortunately, I do," Dave sighed, dropping his shoulders slightly as he attempted to regain control of the growing fiasco. "Listen, babe," he said softly, striving for patience as he held out a hand toward her, "you know that I love you. But, ever since your mother returned from whatever godforsaken hole in the wall she was last stationed at, you've been a different person. Now that the Ambassador is living in our backyard, you stay on edge. With work. With me. Jesus, I feel like there are three of us in this relationship. You, me, and your mother."

"That's not true," Emily denied automatically, shaking her dark head as she narrowed her eyes in his direction.

"Emily," Dave drawled, his dark eyes zeroing in on her beautiful face, "We both know it is. And that's okay. Based on what you've told me about your family history, I don't blame you. What's not okay is being angry with me for having a few hard feelings."

"You don't have "a few hard feelings", Dave," Emily said with an indelicate snort, moving around him toward her small kitchen. "You have huge fucking grudges, Rossi. Decades old, bone deep grudges. And don't think I'm not aware of it."

Lips tightening as he unconsciously straightened, Dave growled as he turned to face her, "Your mother got a lot of good agents killed by not listening to our intel all those years ago. When the Bureau tells you that there's a threat against your life, you listen. Instead, she chose to keep to her agenda. And a lot of decent men were lost saving her life."

"Saving my mother's life, David," Emily clarified stiffly, her posture ramrod straight. "You keep forgetting that part. No matter how complicated our relationship might be, I still love my mother. And you're as guilty as she is. You've done everything short of calling her a murderer in the months since she's returned stateside," she accused. Pausing, she cocked her head to the side as she added, her words clipped out in terse judgment, "But, maybe, that's how you see her. Do you think my mother is a murderer, David?"


	3. Chapter 3

**_Author's Note:_**

**_First, let us begin by thanking everyone that is reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting our stories. We truly appreciate._**

**_We have several announcements regarding our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" today. First, we have a new interview with another of our dedicated writers, Leigh59, available to read. Also, we have several new discussion threads for you to comment on. Join our lively discussion thread called, "AJ Cook's Contract Not Renewed" and tell us what you think of CM's latest developments. We also have a thread entitled, "Fanfic Challenge 2010 Assignments" where you can see the recently assigned pairings for our first ever fanfic challenge. And finally, we've begun a thread to offer prayers and best wishes for our fellow author, JWynn. We hope to see you all there!_**

**Apologies and Other Necessary Evils**

**Chapter Three**

_**Prompt: Little House on the Prairie - "The High Cost of Being Right"**_

"You want the truth, Emily?" Dave asked softly as he kept his eyes trained on her, her body clenched and her face tight.

"I wouldn't have asked you otherwise," Emily replied, her words having the force of bullets.

"Fine, but remember you asked for it," Dave replied evenly, his hands fisted closely to his hips as he carefully chose his words. "Do I think your mother is a murderer? No. I think she's an idiotic bureaucrat with an agenda, serious control issues and a bad attitude."

"She is not!" Emily automatically defended her mother, her narrow shoulders jerking back suddenly in agitation.

"Bullshit! She's got an agenda right now, Emily. It begins and ends with the dissolution of our relationship. Open your eyes and see her for who she is and what she's trying to do," he demanded impatiently with a stiff wave of his hand. Letting out a harsh sigh, he demanded, "Listen to us, Emily. Before she entered the picture, we didn't fight. But since she arrived in D.C., we've barely exchanged a civil word between us. She's playing you and you're letting her."

"I'm not," Emily shook her head, frowning as his words penetrated the angry haze surrounding her. "I'm not," she repeated weakly, meeting his dark eyes as she felt her defenses start to weaken, the seeds he was planting starting to sprout unpleasant thoughts in her mind.

"Yeah, you are. You're playing right into her hands. Embassy balls, political fundraisers...you hate that shit. And, yet, you've rearranged your life...OUR life...to meet her every whim. And you don't even see what she's doing. Why do you think she's dragging you to this crap, Em?" Pausing, Dave stared hard across the room at her, barely resisting the urge to stalk across the room and shake sense into her. "She's using you as a political pawn. If she links you to the right man, she can assure your father and herself a lasting dynasty."

"You're just being jealous," Emily muttered, reaching for the obvious defense, the only thing that could possibly make any sense anymore.

"We both know that I don't get jealous, Emily," Dave replied slowly, shaking his head slowly as he kept his eyes trained on hers. "I get even."

Staring back at him, the sound of the grandfather clock behind her ticking loudly, marking the passage of time, Emily began to recognize the validity of his accusations. Biting her lip as she felt a sudden sinking in her heart, she whispered, "I thought she wanted to build a relationship with me."

"She does, cara. One that is constructed on her terms," Dave replied softly, hating the lost, hurt look suddenly shining in her luminous eyes.

"She manipulated me," Emily said aloud, her voice stark in the quiet room. "She manipulated me and I didn't even see it," she said huskily, averting her eyes from his, staring heavily at the sole coffee mug sitting on the counter, needing to find some sort of balance in a world that had sudden spun off its axis.

Remaining wisely silent, he stood still as comprehension sank into the woman he loved. And if he had hated Ambassador Prentiss before, it was nothing compared to the vicious savagery he felt when that shattered, vulnerable sheen of tears slowly dripped down Emily's cheeks.

"Damn her," Em whispered, slamming a hand against her thigh as she fought the rising anger and disappointment. "I fall for it every time," she mumbled to herself, wiping furiously at her wet cheeks.

"You're human, cara," Rossi stated softly, slowly approaching Emily's stiffened body with gentle steps. "We all want to believe that people can change. Especially those people we love."

"But, she can't," Emily said with a sad finality. Closing her eyes as he slipped a warm arm around her waist, his body heat seeping through her thin tank top, she whispered, resigned, "I'll set her straight, Dave."

Nodding wordlessly as she leaned against him, surrounded by her small kitchen, he admitted quietly, "I can be an insensitive prick, Emily. I could have handled this whole conversation a lot more eloquently. I'm sorry."

"If you'd been a kinder, gentler Rossi, I'd have thought pod people had overtaken your body...or you'd had a break with reality and another personality had taken control," Emily teased with a weak sigh, offering him a watery smile.

"Funny girl," he muttered, pressing a kiss to her damp cheek, letting his lips linger against her soft skin, drinking in the unique beautifulness that was her.

Moving her head slightly to nudge his lips with her own, she whispered warmly against his soft lips, "You know something else we haven't done since my mother's arrival back in the Capitol?"

"I think I can guess," Dave murmured, nipping her lower lip lightly as he slipped a hand over her hip, pulling her out into the small hallway. "And if you're lucky, I might remember how to do it."

Laughing lightly as she dropped her head to nuzzle his neck, Emily inhaled deeply, the spicy, expensive scent of his cologne comforting her. "Is that right?" she asked, her words muffled against the collar of his white shirt as her hand idly toyed with the small buttons.

"With the right incentive," he rumbled against her ear, his voice slightly wicked as the sun drifted behind a cloud and the foyer was pitched into shadows.

"Well, then I say we adjourn this meeting to my bedroom," Emily suggested, surrounding his strong fingers with his and tugging him toward the wooden staircase, letting herself just believe in this moment. Her mother's presence had already been banished from her thoughts, replaced by the true love she knew emanated from this wonderful man.

And trailing her up the narrow steps, Dave smiled. Frilly bedroom and undersized bed aside, as long as the dark haired angel in front of him had her head resting on the pillow beside him, he'd count himself blessed and call himself at home.

fin


End file.
